


Tales of Parenthood

by Demonwolf88



Category: James and the Giant Peach - Roald Dahl
Genre: Family, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2018-10-05 02:44:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 7,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10295726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Demonwolf88/pseuds/Demonwolf88
Summary: A series of short stories focusing on small moments between James and his insect family. Mostly just sweet fluff.





	1. Parenthood

Parenthood, a word that, by definition, means to have borne or sired a child. By that definition alone, then Mrs. Ladybug was the only true parent on the peach. She had, after all, given birth to 300 children while the rest of the bugs had no children of their own. Due to circumstances beyond their control, the other five bugs were unable to find mates and procreate. However, those same circumstances also dictated that they were not to remain childless.

Until the tragic deaths of Mr. and Mrs. Trotter, none of the minuscule residents on the hill knew that Spiker and Sponge had a nephew. It wasn't until the police gave the two women the news about their sister and her husband's demise that news about the little boy began to circulate. Despite every bug's feelings about Spiker and Sponge, all were curious about the women's nephew.

When the boy James arrived on the dismal hill to live with his aunts, all of the bugs pitied his situation. Losing his mother and father was bad enough, but to endure that and then be forced to live with relatives whose hearts were cold as ice was as cruel a fate as any of them could have imagined for a child. Still, on that fateful day when they all found themselves humanized and inside a giant peach, not one of them considered fetching James. After all, he wasn't their child and whatever they thought about Spiker and Sponge, they couldn't just pluck the boy from his home at a moment's whim.

Much to the surprise of the crew, James quite literally dropped in on them. While surprised, none of the six adults were going to send the orphaned child back to his abusive aunts. From that moment on, James Henry Trotter belonged to them, even if they didn't fully realize it yet.

At the time, he was simply another member of the crew; another unwilling citizen of the hilltop who wanted desperately to get away. Having no clear destination also meant that no one had any definite plans for the future. And at that time, raising a human child was the farthest thing from anyone's mind. No, James was simply their friend and he would always be their friend. That is, he _was_ their friend.

No one was quite sure when they stopped thinking of James as a friend and when they started thinking of him as their own son. Perhaps it was his solutions to the various obstacles; indeed, the idea of using seagulls to fly a giant piece of fruit was something only an imaginative child would share with his parents. Perhaps it was his small stature; ironic that a group of insects now had to wait for a human to catch up with them due to his short limbs or be lifted up and helped down to certain areas of the peach seed because he was too small to get up or down himself.

Or perhaps it was the way his brown eyes would look at the six of them, begging them for attention. For praise.

For love.

This little boy, orphaned, neglected, and abused, wanted nothing more than for Centipede, Mr. Grasshopper, Earthworm, Mrs. Ladybug, Miss Spider, and Glowworm to show him that they cared for him. And before any of them knew it, they did.

All throughout their long journey across the Atlantic Ocean, the six bugs paid most of their attention to James. All of them spoke kindly to him, entertained him with stories, reassured him when he became nervous about something, made sure he ate well, and saw to it that he was warm and comfortable at night.  
In short, they acted like parents.

Again, adopting James was not planned, but by the time the group made it to New York, they'd become so fond of him that they couldn't bear to let any other family take their boy away. No, looking back on it, they became a family the minute that special little boy entered their lives and all six bugs relished every minute of parenthood.


	2. Rainy Day

As an experienced mother, Mrs. Ladybug was all too familiar with the trials of a rainy day. Between trying to keep as good a home as she could make for her family on Spiker and Sponge's property and being mother to a horde of young ones, bad weather made for an easier busier day. It was hard enough trying to keep 300 children entertained on that horrible hill when the sun was shining, but when it rained, all 300 of her offspring had to be confined to their rather small niche under the peach tree. Oh, it had been a challenge, but Mrs. Ladybug would be lying to herself if she didn't admit she still treasured the memories of trying to think up games and activities to distract her children from the pouring rain.

Even now, Mr. Ladybug still had to suppress a chuckle when she heard mothers exchanging stories of trying to keep their rowdy toddlers in line when they couldn't play outside. At most, those ladies only had to deal with two or three children. At the moment, Mrs. Ladybug only had to contend with one.

Standing in the brightly lit kitchen, Mrs. Ladybug's four arms were busy measuring out muffin mix into the baking tray. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched James, who was seated on one of the couches and starting out the window. Outside, the rain lashed against the window panes and the sky was dark as night, but the house, like the kitchen, was warm and bright. James remained completely motionless, his brown eyes fixed on the drops of water gathered on the glass. Every so often, he'd tilt his head slightly or his small brow would furrow, as though he were looking for something.

_Now, what could he be doing?_

Slipping the first tray of muffins into the oven, Mrs. Ladybug busied herself with mixing up a second batch, though by now, she was paying less attention to her baking and more attention to her little boy. Still, he continued to watch the rain.

Was he bothered by the bad weather? Due to the absence of thunder and lightning, during which James always seemed a little more nervous (no doubt because of bad memories), Mrs. Ladybug didn't think that was the case. Rather, James was completely content with whatever it was he was doing.

Once both batches of muffins were done and laid out on the stove to cool, Mrs. Ladybug's curiosity finally won out. Stepping out of the kitchen, she walked over to the couch, placing a gentle hand on James's shoulder. The boy shook as head as if jerked out of a daze and then smiled up at Mrs. Ladybug.

"Alright, dearie?" she asked, slipping her other three arms around him. James nodded.

"I'm fine," he answered as Mrs. Ladybug sat down beside him.

"You're awfully quiet today. What have you been up to?"

"Seeing what kind of shapes the rain makes," James answered.

"Oh?"

"Yes. Like that one." James pointed at the window. "It looks like a mountain."

"Why, it does," Mrs. Ladybug agreed. So, this was how James was entertaining himself.

_What a clever, imaginative little boy I have_ , she mused running affectionate fingers through James's hair. _How lucky I am._

"Hmmm, well I think I see a star up there in the corner."

"I see it too. And there's a flower."

It seemed as though rainy days were going to easier a little easier, but just as wonderful.


	3. Trust Us

She understood now; understood why parents could get so frantic. Up until now, Miss Spider had never fully understood why mothers, both human and otherwise, panicked when their children went missing. She could easily sympathize with their worry, especially given a bug's perilous position, but had never felt that sheer terror no parent wants to feel when their child is nowhere to be found. Although she had to admit she was considerably less frightened than a mother whose child had disappeared from an open space rather than a hollow piece of fruit.

After all, aboard the peach, it wasn't as though James could have gone very far.

Despite the darkness of the peach, Miss Spider could still see very well. As far as she could tell, she was still close to her web, but not that close to where any of the others were sleeping. Despite her worry, Miss Spider didn't want to rouse the other bugs. No sense in causing more panic and possibly scaring James, wherever he was.

_James, where are you?_

She had settled the boy into bed not long after night had fallen and had retreated into her pipe just as James fell asleep. She wasn't sure how long she slept for; all she knew was that she had woken up, leaned down to check on James and found her web empty.

She doubted he had gone outside; Centipede was at the helm and most likely would've captured the boy's attention, keeping the little boy up with him in order to keep himself amused. Due to the absence of voices up above, Miss Spider knew James had to have retreated into the peach.

Why in the world had the boy gotten up? Had he had a bad dream? Was he feeling alright? And if something was bothering him, why hadn't James come to her?

Miss Spider paused, a little confused. Why would James come to her if he was scared or feeling sick?

_Because I care for him._ Well, yes, that was true. She, like all the others, cared deeply for the little boy and wanted to keep him safe and happy.

_Yes, but does James know that?_

Did he? Miss Spider wondered if she had done anything that would stop James from alerting her or any of the others if something was bothering him. She didn't think so; so why wouldn't their young friend seek their advice if-

_Because children go to their parents when they're upset._

Was that it? Did James not trust her enough as a parental figure? Then again, why would he? The only other caretakers he had known after his mother and father died were Spiker and Sponge. And while he clearly knew that no one on the peach would harm him, it must still be a little hard for him to trust new adults.

_Oh, my poor little James._

Rounding a corner, Miss Spider finally spotted the small figure. Breathing a sigh of relief, she paused for a moment, noting that he was slumped against one of the walls. He looked like he had fallen asleep, but otherwise seemed fine. Still, who knew what thoughts were going through his head, even as he dreamed?

Walking over to him, Miss Spider laid a hand on James's shoulder, giving the boy a very gentle shake.

"James," she whispered. "James."

The boy stirred and blinked sleepily as he looked up at her.

"Miss Spider?" he asked, still in a daze.

"Are you alright?" James nodded slowly, rubbing at his eyes.

"What are you doing down here?"

"I couldn't sleep."

"Why did you not come to me?" Miss Spider asked, trying to keep her voice as soft as possible so as not frighten him. However, the small boy averted his eyes.

"I don't know," he whispered, sounding like a child who had been lost for a very long time.

"Oh, James." Miss Spider drew the boy close to her; James, clearly exhausted, rested his head against her shoulder.

"James, you can come to any of us whenever you like We care about you and we all want you to be happy. You do know that, yes?"

James gave a half-hearted nod; clearly there was something that was preventing him from confiding in her.

"Please, James, tell me what is wrong," Miss Spider begged him.

"I… I was starting to fall asleep and I started thinking of my aunts and how they told me no one would ever want me around."

"Well, now, that is not true and you know that, don't you?"

"I know," the little boy replied softly.

"And you know we will never let them hurt you again, right?"

"But what if they really do come after me when we get to New York?" James blurted out. "What if they take me back with them? What if they-"

"James, James," Miss Spider soothed, rubbing his back "That will not happen. I promise you that neither I nor any of the others will ever let your aunts harm you again."

"But how?" the boy whimpered, his brown eyes wide with fear. "They said I have to stay with them because I don't have any other family."

"And that is where they are wrong, James. We are a family now and we all love you very much."

"You do?" James's eyes were wide as he met Miss Spider's gaze.

"Of course we do." Miss Spider brushed a few strands of hair off the boy's forehead. "You are the most precious thing in our lives. And no matter what, we are going to take of you. You believe me, yes?"

To her relief, a small smile broke out over the boy's face and he nodded.

"Then trust us when you are scared or unsure. We'll always be there to help you."

James nestled against her shoulder again and Miss Spider held him close.

"I love you, Miss Spider," he whispered.

"And I love you, James. More than anything. Now come, it is past your bedtime." Miss Spider half-led, half-carried the small boy back to her web. As she was lying him back down, James whispered,

"Miss Spider?"

"Yes?"

"When is my bedtime?" Miss Spider picked up the thicker blanket she had woven together that afternoon and tucked it firmly around James.

"Let's start with when it is dark for now. We can work out a time when we get to New York."

"Okay," James murmured, already falling back asleep. Miss Spider kissed his forehead and stroked his cheek.

"Sweet dreams, my sweet boy." James's eyes were closed, but he smiled slightly again and one of his hands lightly clutched at Miss Spider's wrist as sleep re-claimed him. Miss Spider stayed with him for a few minutes, watching him sleep.

_He truly is ours now. He trusts us now._

Miss Spider smiled at the sleeping child.

_His parents were so lucky. And now, so are we._

James trusted them now.


	4. Bonding

Centipede chewed on the end of is cigar, wishing for the thousandth time that he could light it in the house. But no. For one thing, Mrs. Ladybug didn't want the smell of smoke getting into the curtains and furniture, but the ban on indoor smoking was mainly due to James.

"I don't want James breathing that smoke," Mrs. Ladybug had told him not long after the family had moved into the peach pit. "It's bad for children and goodness knows it won't do much for your health either, Centipede. Smoke outside if you must, but not around James."

Easy for Mrs. Ladybug to say; she and the other members of the family were currently out of the house. Yeah, they were working while Centipede was able to take the Friday off, but for some reason, the public schools had decided to close too. In other words, Centipede was the one who got to be with James for the windy November day.

It wasn't that he minded, of course. But, well…

"Just my luck that we gotta stay inside," the tall bug muttered, slumping down in a chair. Several of James's classmates had come down with colds and while the kid didn't have any symptoms (at least none that Centipede could see), Miss Spider had insisted that James stay inside that day.

"Aw, c'mon, Angel Fangs," Centipede had protested before Miss Spider had left. "Jimmy's fine and it's not like a little wind is gonna hurt him. Besides, what am I supposed to do with him inside all day?"

"That is up to the two of you," Miss Spider had answered. "But it's too cold and windy to stay outside for long. Besides, it will be nice for the two of you to do something quiet together." To Centipede's surprise, she had reached out and gently grasped one of his hands. "Bond with your boy, Centipede. He needs you to be more than a friend." And off she had gone, before Centipede could protest anymore.

Centipede sighed, shaking his head. He cared about the kid and loved spending time with Jimmy just a much as any of the others. It was just, well, he wasn't all that good at being a parent.

Yeah, he knew what Miss Spider meant. For Pete's sake, they had legally adopted Jimmy! And while he wouldn't give the kid up for anything, he knew he was better at being a friend to the boy than a parental figure. Mr. Grasshopper was more a father to the boy than he was; Centipede was good at playing around with the kid and loved going to the park with him, but the idea of him being a parent was kind of ridiculous. He wasn't cut out to do that! He didn't obsess over Jimmy, he didn't worry over him every second of the day, he didn't wonder…

Come to think of it, where was Jimmy?

"Kid?" Centipede poked his head into the kitchen, wondering if Jimmy was sitting at the table drawing or something. But no, the room was empty.

Great, just great. Miss Spider hadn't even been gone an hour and already he couldn't find the kid. Well, he doubted Jimmy had gone outside; the wind had picked up some and there weren't any other kids outside that he could see.

 _Guess he's upstairs_. Obviously, Centipede thought as he headed up the staircase. Unless the kid managed to vanish into thin air this morning, he was probably in his room. Might as well go see if he was alright.

The door of Jimmy's room was open a bit and Centipede could see the light from the kid's bedside lamp spilling out into the hall. Most likely, Jimmy was reading or drawing, but it wouldn't hurt to find out.

"Hey, kid," Centipede greeted, pushing the door open a bit.

"Hi, Centipede," came the eager reply. The small boy was seated on the carpeted floor, a large plastic cylinder next to him. In both the container and spread out in front of James was a large collection of Lego blocks, which Centipede knew could keep most kids Jimmy's age entertained for hours. Currently, there was no major Lego masterpiece.

"Watcha building, buddy?" Knowing the kid, he was probably going build a miniature version of the Great Wall of China or something.

"I'm not sure yet," James replied, glancing down at his building materials. "Maybe a house."

"A house?" Centipede asked, raising an eyebrow. "Just a house, kiddo? How 'bout a mansion?"

"A mansion?" James asked, looking up at his tall guardian with curious eyes.

"Yeah. Ya know, lotsa rooms, a big staircase, maybe an indoor pool, and, uh…"

"A stable in the backyard?"

"Hey, yeah!" Centipede agreed. "Great idea, Jimmy! People with mansions usually have horses! Huh, guess they'd need a big yard too."

"What about a garden?"

"Sure, gotta have one of those." Centipede was so caught up in constructing this vision that he wasn't even aware that he had sat down next to James. Now he picked up a blue colored lego and eyed it carefully. "Huh, might need a moat at keep the place safe."

"Will you help me build it, Centipede?" James asked now, his brown eyes pleading Centipede to do just that. Centipede ruffled the kid's hair, grinning.

"You betcha, Jimmy. You an' me, kid, we're gonna build the best Lego mansion in history. Right?"

"Right!"

"Alright, let's get started."  
*******************************************************************************************

"There, I think we're done."

"Wow."

"Yeah, pretty good, huh?"

The so-called mansion had slightly uneven walls in varying colors, a mismatched roof that, had it been applied to a real house, would've offered a shower every time it rained, a semi-circle of blue that served as the moat and what looked like a half-pitched tint with a few tiny plastic horses stuffed inside. But both James and Centipede didn't seem to notice the flaws. In fact, Centipede doubted any building team could've constructed anything finer.

"Yep, it's a place fit for a king, eh, Jimmy?" Any other remarks Centipede could make about the pair's finished product was cut off by James flinging his arms around him and clinging to him.

"It's the best, Centipede! Thank you!"

"Aww, c'mon, kid," Centipede said, wrapping a few of his arms around the boy despite being a little embarrassed at the sudden display of affection. "Besides, ya did a lot of it yerself." James glanced up at him with bright eyes.

"But it was your idea and you helped me a lot too."

"Guess if anyone wants to interview us, we'll have to share the credit."

James giggled a bit, which just broadened Centipede's grin.

_He looks so happy…I made him so happy._

"Can we build something else?" James asked.

"Uh, how about we have lunch first, buddy? It' already 12:30."

"Okay."

Together, the pair headed downstairs, already planning their next big construction. James had proposed a forest and already Centipede could see big trees, deep rives, and deep, dark caves. This was gonna be fun!

 _Ya know,_ the tall bug thought, _if this is the kind of "something quiet" parents do with their kids, guess I'm not that bad at being a parent after all._

Maybe they should take their lunch upstairs. He and his boy- he and his son- had a forest to build together.


	5. Seeing Good

Yes, it was wonderful to be off that wretched hill, but wasn't anyone concerned that they were currently higher in the sky than they'd ever been before? Yes, the sun was warm, but was no one but him worried about being out in the open, something that their natural instincts screamed against?

And wasn't anyone else taking into consideration the fact that, if their vessel was spotted by a human ship, they'd likely as not be attacked be attacked out of fear?

Apparently not…

Even though he couldn't see anything, Earthworm was still aware of everyone else's actions. Then again, "actions" wasn't the right word; everyone was just lounging around on various parts of the peach's surface. Earthworm slid along the fuzzy skin of the fruit, feeling the warmth of the sun on his back. He shuddered; that burning orb in the sky was probably shining on him like a beacon, advertising every bird that wasn't tethered to the peach stem to come munch on his back.

_I won't be able to see them. Hear them, yes, but that won't help me if an entire FLOCK decides to attack us all at once. I can't see ANYTHING! In fact, I could fall right off the peach and not know it! I could-_

"Hi, Earthworm," a soft little voice greeted off to his left.

"Ahh, what? Oh," Earthworm breathed in relief as his frazzled brain identified the voice. "Oh, it's you, James." The serpentine bug tilted his head toward the little boy.

"Are you okay?" the boy asked.

"Oh, fine," Earthworm moaned. "Just fine, except for the fact that we're all in constant danger."

"We are?" James's voice, which had sounded perfectly at ease, was now tinged with a note of fear.

"Of course. Why, we could be spotted by enemy ships below, ravaged by birds, fall off the peach into the ocean and drown, a whole number of horrible things!"

"Oh…"

Earthworm opened his mouth to add another list of catastrophes, but something in James's voice stopped him. Due to his lack of eyes, Earthworm couldn't see the expression on James's face, but the sound of the child's voice told him that he had succeeded in turning the boy's relaxed smile into a scared frown. The idea made him feel… awful.

"Then again, I guess it's not likely we'll be seen since we're so high. Er, we are high up, aren't we?"

"Yes. I can't even see the ocean."

"Oh. Then I guess we won't be spotted. And most birds want to be close to the water, where the fish are. And… I doubt you're going to just walk right off the peach, right?"

"Right," James answered and Earthworm felt a surge of relief at the hint of a giggle in the boy's voice.

"Well, then I guess we aren't in that much danger after all."

A soft brushing sound indicated to the sightless bug that the small boy had rolled over onto his stomach on the peach skin.

"Earthworm, do you get scared a lot?"

Slightly taken aback, Earthworm answered,

"Well, when you're constantly in danger of being eaten, you have to be on your guard. And besides, I can't defend myself or even see what comes after me!"

"Oh." James was silent for a little bit. "I guess that is pretty scary."

"Yes. That it is," Earthworm agreed softly.

"But..." James went on, "I guess that means you can see anything good either, right?"

Earthworm was silent, not sure how to respond. In truth, he'd never really lamented the lack of sight. He was able to hear a threat coming from miles away; silence meant safety, but never considered how a safe place would look. Come to think of it, what did dirt look like? And what about grass? The sun? The moon? The sky? What did he look like?

What did James look like?

"No, I can't I say I have seen anything good. Tell me, James, what does the sky look like now?"

"Well, the sun's going down, so the sky is orange and pink right now. And there are clouds everywhere. They look like big, soft pillows."

"Is an orange and pink sky nice to look at?"

"Yes. It's like looking at something warm."

"Oh. I like that."

"Me too."

Earthworm tilted his head up toward the sky, suddenly liking the fact that he was out in the open. He no longer felt like he was exposed, but rather in a warm, wonderful place akin to his beloved dirt nests. Was that what James meant by looking at something another way? If so, he could get used to the idea.

Next to him, James gave a contented sigh and Earthworm smiled. He had a feeling that James was smiling peacefully again and if Earthworm had to guess, there probably wasn't a better-looking boy in the world.

Then again, there wasn't a better boy in the entire world at all and that was something Earthworm didn't need eyes to see.


	6. Heirloom

The bracelet really was a fine piece of craftsmanship. A thin circle of pure beaten gold etched with intricately designed music notes and finely drawn roses, it was a symbol of the musical skill of its owner. Indeed, the bracelet was a treasure. An honor.

An heirloom.

Sitting back in his armchair, Mr. Grasshopper admired the bracelet with a nostalgic eye. He'd received the treasure from his father, who, in turn, had received it from his father. All three had been master musicians in the insect world and the bracelet had been passed down from father to eldest son the same way human parents passed down heirlooms to their children.

Well, almost in the same manner as a human family. Traditionally, Mr. Grasshopper reflected, the bracelet was only given to the son who showed the greatest aptitude for music. While it was true that honor had been bestowed to him, Mr. Grasshopper had since reconciled himself to the fact that, having had no children, the bracelet's tradition would end with him.

Now though…

Looking up from the circle of gold in his hand, Mr. Grasshopper turned his eye to the small boy kneeling the carpet in order to have better access to the small coffee table. A slew of new crayons were spread over the glass table top and James was already working away at a fresh sheet of paper. Mr. Grasshopper couldn't see just what the little boy was drawing, but the sight of the eager young artist made him smile fondly at James.

_So young and already he seems to enjoy the arts._

Of course, whether or not James would pursue an artistic lifestyle or move onto something else entirely as he grew was entirely up to him, but Mr. Grasshopper had no doubts that James would excel at any path he chose; already the little boy had achieved so much.

_He is… a treasure of a child._

A treasure. Yes, and did not a treasure deserve a treasure?

"Come here a moment, James. I'd like to show you something."

At the sound of his guardian's voice, James's head had snapped up like a puppet on a string. Upon being summoned, James immediately trotted over to the armchair with a contented smile, obviously pleased to be receiving attention. Leaning forward, Mr. Grasshopper laid a lower hand around James's shoulders while still holding the gold bracelet in his upper right hand.

"Take a look at this, my boy."

"Wow," James breathed, obviously awed.

"Yes, that was my reaction when my father showed it to me."

"You got it from your father, Mr. Grasshopper?"

"Indeed I did, James. This bracelet has been in my family for a long time. Each father passes it down to the son he feels earned it. In my family, this meant whoever was the best musician. Of course, that doesn't always have to be the case."

"It doesn't?"

"No indeed. You see, James, I had, for a long time, believed that I would never give this bracelet to any child of mine. I was never fortunate enough to have children of my own until now."

With a proud smile, Mr. Grasshopper pushed the thin circle of gold into James's small hands and spoke the same words he himself had heard upon receiving the heirloom.  
"That bracelet is yours now, James. Treasure it as I treasure you, my boy." Mr. Grasshopper paused, then added,

"My son."

The boy's brown eyes were just as wide as his smile and shining as brightly as the circle of gold he now held. Drawing James close, Mr. Grasshopper couldn't have been happier at the moment he hugged his child to him.

_You are my heirloom, James. And I couldn't be happier to have you._


	7. Light

Light. Light was her power and with it, her sight. Glowworm's sense of hearing allowed her to pick up only the bare minimum of sound, even when noises were amplified in the underground home in which she and countless other bugs dwelled. Glowworm had long ago accepted this fact and had lived her life in accordance to what her light revealed to her.

It was only with her light that Glowworm was able to gain an inkling about the changes that had affected her life. Only the illumination of her tail showed her what had happened not only to her, but to the other five bugs who also managed to encounter those green... things.

It was her light that had first shown her the open space in the middle of the peach. It was by her light that all six bugs had managed to meet and discuss what their next move should be. And it was her light that allowed them to look upon the face of the boy who would soon become the most precious thing in their lives.

Glowworm was fascinated by James; out of all the bugs, she had been the only one completely ignorant of his existence. Being mostly deaf and having lived below ground, she was barely aware of Spiker and Sponge and thus knew nothing about their nephew until he literally dropped in on the group.

James looked nothing like the brief glimpses of Spiker and Sponge she had obtained so long ago. Indeed, if she had to guess, Glowworm would have said that James could not possibly be related to the two cruel women at all. Everything about the little boy, from his large brown eyes, sweet, open face, and piping childish voice (what little she could hear, anyway) made her want to be around him all the more.

He was a little light; a light that she-like the others- was drawn to.

Yes, that was it! James was like a little candle flame Glowworm mused as she perched in her hollow lantern. True, he was small and not the strongest flame, but he was such a comfort to look at. Such a soothing light.

Such a sweet boy.

Glowworm sighed as she watched James sleep on the web Miss Spider had made for him. Poor thing, he looked so worn out. Then again, it had been a difficult day and this was likely the first time James had slept comfortably since the deaths of his parents. But as Glowworm could see, James wasn't sleeping peacefully.

True, the child wasn't tossing and turning, or even whimpering in his dreams for that manner. But the fretful expression of his face was distressing enough. It seemed her little candle flame was in the presence of a strong wind trying to extinguish it and Glowworm had a pretty good idea of where that wind were coming from. How James had managed to weather such abuse at such a young age was beyond Glowworm. The poor thing must be in dire need of some form of comfort and Glowworm had an idea of just how to offer it.  
Lighting the tip of her tail, Glowworm arched the bulb toward James, spilling a soft green shine over his face. To her relief, the action seemed to calm the little boy and the fearful expression slowly drained away, leaving peace in its place.

_Why, it worked!_ Glowworm dimmed the light a little; enough so that she wouldn't disturb anyone, but bright enough to serve as... well, as a nightlight for her boy. After all, she had to help keep James, her little light, burning brightly.


	8. Peace

The wind howled and shrieked that night, bringing with it only cold and discomfort. However, warm lights were burning bright in the living room of the ramshackle house on the hill. Had anyone been around, they would have seen the silhouettes of two women- one short and fat, the other tall and thin- lounging on the couches and sipping from tall glasses of wine. A peaceful enough scene from the outside, but there was no peace to be had within this particular house that night.

In an upstairs room, a little boy huddled on his bed under his rough wool blanket, trying his best to fend off the chilly breezes invading through his window. Shivering from both fear and cold, James tried to remain as still as possible to avoid drawing any attention to himself, but knew it would only be a matter of time before his two aunts sought him out. One of the first lessons he had learned upon coming to live with Spiker and Sponge was that they had the most uncanny ability to detect his every move and James knew that if he so much as set a foot down on the floor, his guardians would come storming into his bedroom.

Curling up under the blanket, James shuddered as a fresh gale made the window shutters rattle. _Please let them forget,_ he thought to himself. _Please let Auntie Sponge and Auntie Spiker forget they're mad at me._ As it was, James wasn't exactly sure what he had done to aggravate his aunts that day, but for some reason, Spiker and Sponge had reason to want to punish him.

"Upstairs with you, you worthless thing," Spiker had yelled earlier, shaking a fist at him. "Your aunt Sponge and I will deal with you later!" Experience had taught James that the words "deal with you" were usually the prelude to a savage beating and he had long since given up trying to reason with them. "Disagreeing" with Spiker and Sponge always made a bad beating worse.

A crash downstairs jerked James out of his thoughts and he gave an involuntary yelp. Shaking, the little boy sat up and listened for his aunts' reactions; he could hear Spiker furiously complaining, but didn't hear his name (or his aunts' equivalent of it) mentioned. That was a good sign; perhaps they really had forgotten their earlier fury with him. The angry voices died down and James began to relax; he had huddled back down on his bed when he heard footsteps ascending the stairs and heading toward his room. Eyes wide with fear, James knew there would be no peace for him tonight.  
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Once again, the wind howled outside, making branches swing violently on their trees and sending any stray pedestrians scurrying for cover. James, who lying by the cheery blazing fireplace with his crayons and pad of paper, glanced out the window at the dark sky as a fresh gale rattled the windows. Miss Spider, who was sitting next to him looking over papers from her nightclub, also looked up.

"It is good we are all inside tonight," she observed, reaching out and running a comforting hand through James's hair. The small boy smiled at the action; Miss Spider always seemed to know when he was in need of a little reassurance.

"Centipede, must you keep switching the channels like that?" Mr. Grasshopper, who had been keeping an eye on James as well, now turned his full attention to fellow bug.

"You're reading the paper, so what's it to you?"

"It's distracting. Not just to me, but to everyone else, I'm sure."

"Yes. Yes it is."

Centipede raised an eyebrow at Earthworm, who was lying curled up on the rug in front of the couch. Mrs. Ladybug, sensing his confusion, spoke up.

"I believe the Earthworm finds the different sounds distracting, dear. It's probably best if you pick a show and stick with it." The maternal insect headed off to the kitchen, where the sound of a kettle reaching full boil was audible.

"Fine." James watched as Centipede settled on a family-friendly sitcom with a roll of his blue eyes. "If it'll give the rest of ya some peace."

James turned his attention back to his drawing, allowing the warmth of the fire and the company of his loving family to wash over him. As far as he was concerned, a peaceful night had never been in question.


	9. Closer Than You Think

The sun was just setting by the time everyone had finished their peach dinner. After cleaning up as best they could, the entire group decided to watch the sunset from the top of the peach.

The seagulls had dropped down closer to the ocean and the murmur of the waves was audible. The sky was a perfect shade of orange with vibrant streaks of pinks and golds and the water seemed to sparkle like gems in the sun's last rays. To James, who had spent much of his life living by the ocean, the sight was both familiar and comforting.

"Oh, isn't it beautiful?" Mrs. Ladybug sighed. "I always thought a sunset over the ocean would be lovely."

"How long before we get to New York?" Earthworm asked, twisting around to address Centipede. "I'd rather be buried in dirt than out in the open like this." Centipede shrugged.

"Eh, a day or two, I'd say."

"Well, what is it?" Mr. Grasshopper asked. "One day or two?"

"Hey, depends on how fast the seagulls fly."

"Perhaps, but I'd imagine you'd have a reasonable estimate."

"Like I said, probably a day or two. I'd say that's reasonable."

James watched his friends discuss the distance between their current position and New York before turning to watch the rapidly darkening sky. Another two days and they'd be in New York for sure (according to Centipede). James couldn't wait; what an adventure this was!

And yet…

And yet he felt slightly uneasy about something. What it was, James couldn't say. But he was sure it had something to do with the idea of days passing before the peach got to New York.

Well, it wasn't as though they could get to New York in one day! James remembered his father talking about spending a few days on the ship going to America and how much fun that would be too. And what was the peach but a special kind of ship?

The ocean's golden hue was disappearing as the sun sank lower and lower behind the horizon. Soon it would be dark; had he been at home, he would have been going inside and getting ready for bed.

Was that what was bothering him then? Like most small children, James had often thought about having great adventures, but at the end of the day, there was always home to go back to. Even when acting out these adventures with his friends by the sea, it just seemed normal that the fantasy ended when the day was over. True, they could pretend they were going to sleep under the stars or say they would spend days scaling a mountain, but fantasy was what it all came down to. Once the sun set, it was home for dinner, a bath (or at least a wash-up) and then tucked into bed to dream of more adventures.

And while he was extremely grateful to be away from his aunts' house, James had to admit that, yes, he was feeling homesick. It had been a long day, full of excitement and fun, but now there was no home to go back to.

"My goodness, it's getting late." James was jerked out of his thoughts at Mrs. Ladybug's words.

"Yes, and we've all had a long day," Mr. Grasshopper agreed. "I think it's time we all retired for the evening. Now, are you sure you don't want any help at the helm, Mr. Centipede?"

"I got it, I got it," Centipede protested, rolling his eyes. "I've pulled all-nighters before."

James glanced up at the sky once more. The first stars were coming out, something he'd always liked looking for. Maybe he could find a way to sleep under the hole in the ceiling so he could look at the stars and pretend he was back in his old house.

A gentle hand fell on his shoulder and James looked up to see Miss Spider standing over him.

"Come, James," she said softly, giving the little boy a gentle smile. "I will be making you a bed in my web tonight. You'll be more comfortable there."

"A bed?"

"Of course." Miss Spider took James's hand in her own. "It is time for bed. For all of us, I think."

Stifling a yawn, James nodded and followed Miss Spider back into the peach. He _was_ tired and the idea of his own bed in the peach was strangely comforting, as was the feel of Miss Spider's gloved hand wrapped protectively around his own.

Maybe, James thought as his friends wished him goodnight, just maybe, he wasn't so far from home after all.


End file.
